


Rendered Useless

by Harmonica_Smile (Rescue_Remedy)



Category: One Piece
Genre: (chapter 1), (chapter 2), Captivity, Defiance, Gunplay, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, PWP, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Trigger Warnings, no redeeming features
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-03-25 09:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rescue_Remedy/pseuds/Harmonica_Smile
Summary: Law had no redeeming features. Doflamingo had rendered them all useless, or very useful, depending on your perspective.Please note the warnings. Dark one-shot. Pushes boundaries. No sweetness to be found.Chapter 2 and 3 is a two-shot. It's stand alone fromRendered Uselessbut set in the same world. Stillnosweetness.





	1. Rendered Useless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning** : explicit rape and sexual assault throughout. Proceed accordingly, or hit the back button. All hurt, no comfort.  
> Law never quite got away from Doflamingo after Dressrosa. Vergo never quite died.

* * *

**Rendered Useless**

* * *

He woke up to something sloshing in and out of his mouth. How was that even possible? He tried to reject what could only be — Ah fuck — what _was_ that? As if he had to ask. His tongue could work but he couldn't — why —  _couldn't_ he move his lips? To widen them or to bring them together.

That laugh. "Little bird. I see your tongue has woken up? Enjoying your snack?"

Law's eyes flew open and were met with Doflamingo's fucking pubes, and his massive fucking dick slammed three-quarters down his throat. _No_. Law tried to move his hands. He knew he wouldn't be able to get away from the creep, but to somehow make it more comfortable for himself. But - Ah - Doflamingo slammed his head into the bars with the force of his thrusts. Continuously. Law had no way of bracing himself. His arms were slightly elevated and chained either side of his body. Not just chained. Bound by Doflamingo's strings too. Now conscious, he gagged before he could stop himself.

Doflamingo ran his hands through Law's hair and gripped it hard.

"If you don't answer me Law, I'll take it you want more. Harder."

It amused him to see the confusion, pain and panic in Law's eyes, the struggle to breathe.

"Nothing to say?" He now kept a steady, almost lazy pace. "I'll let those noises you're making speak for you then."

He increased the pace and pushed into Law, the dance of the chains on the bars lending a sense of anticipation, want, need. Just look at his needy whore.

"Fuck-cow. Feels good to be used, doesn't it?" He had to kneel to fuck Law like this. Now he was awake, they'd make sure he was the one kneeling for future fun. He wrapped one of his huge hands around Law's neck. Not squeezing. Well, just slightly with the tips of his fingers.

His mouth was so warm. _So_ welcoming. Doflamingo took his other hand from Law's hair for a moment and moved his strings.

Law felt his lips widen. Joker had strung his mouth open, and used him while he was _sleeping?_  The second had happened before, but never into this orifice.

"Time to take all of me, Law," and the pink bastard plunged in up to the hilt. Quickly withdrew in part, and used the moist deliciousness of Law's mouth, the sides of his mouth, to enfold him when he plunged in again. And again.

"Use your tongue."

Law looked at him with confusion. He barely knew what was going on. Tears of frustration, pain, gathered at the edge of his eyes. Doflamingo's knees hemmed him in, either side of his body. The strings on his wrists tightened.

"Lick it."

Law could not hide the look of disgust that crossed his face, and Doflamingo yanked his hair tighter at the expression, pushed in more determinedly, tweaked the strings.

Law did as he was told. Though the way Doflamingo's cock was moving, he could only get in a few swipes here and there. His tongue was the only part he had control of. He couldn't bring down his teeth without ripping his pinned open lips apart, and if he bit into Doflamingo, he knew the punishment would be cruel.

"Ah, little Law." Doflamingo didn't slow the pace, but he did smile with only a hint of menace and smoothed Law's hair back with his huge cupped hand. "I like you best like this. How does it feel to be home?"

Nothing. The boy was working on automaton again. His master eased both of his hands around Law's head, and actually cushioned some of the blows to the bars behind him, though he could have as easily aided them.

"Look at me." Law looked up, trying to work his tongue, gain his breath, get through this.

"Kiss, now Law. Bring your lips around it." That anxiety and anger trickling into his eyes. _Delicious_. Doflamingo widened the strings on his lips. "Do as you're told."

Law's glance, fully annoyed. _Just do it, you prick. Just rape me, whichever way you're going to.  I can't do what you tell me to._ That was the point.

"No?" His huge paw was by his jaw again. "Then you better get your tongue the fuck out of the way, Law. I'd hate for you to choke on it."

He held both sides of Law's face firmly and smacked into that ridiculous clown mouth one furious stroke after the other. _Heaven_. He helped Law's head connect with the bars now, and those messy, messy sounds Law made, the little flutters of his fingers, the jerking of his legs - his distress was bliss.

"Tell me you want it, Law. I know you’re having trouble speaking,” and he punctuated every pause by slamming Law's head hard, "But just a flick of your finger, left hand, no rude gestures, will tell me all I need to know."

Law had to parse the sentence, needed to figure out what was being said. He shakily lifted a finger. This was bad, but it was worse when he didn't comply. The steady squelch of Doflamingo using him and his own breath filled his ears.

"Very good," He gave two particularly hard thrusts to show his approval. Law's head flew back.

"Now, bubby. I'm figuring that _uh-uh-uh_ \- those sounds you're making, are sounds of pleasure."

Law lifted a finger of the hand that was still shaking against the bars.

"Good. Show me, slave. Put on your game face. I need to know how much you need me, how much you get off on this."

The smile Law so often wore, free of any humour, could not be made with his lips like this. Still, the sooner Doflamingo spilled into him, the sooner he'd pull out of him. Law banished the fear, anger, pain. _This is what you were made for, Law, trained for_. Show pleasure if they wanted pleasure, pain if they wanted pain.

He looked up at Doflamingo with a face of respect and desire, his stringed lips a cross between street whore and innocent maiden. As obscene as they were. His eyes worshipped the demon like a god. Law felt himself slipping.

"Do you love me, Law? Serve no other? Raise a finger." Law's face filled with rapture, even as Doflamingo pounded away, so very close, and yes, there was the finger.

"Yes, my sweet whore." And he held Law's head steady as he burst inside of him, his semen filling his throat and mouth, and there was even enough to pull out and snake it over his body and face. To aim for that gaping mouth.

" _Fufufufu_ , swallow it down Law, or else."

The so-called Heart captain tried to get his breath and swallow and it was _fucking_ impossible, so he leant over, and let the vile white spill to the cell floor, so he could breathe, and then looked up to Doflamingo with laughable defiance.

That brat.

"Little bitch." The bars rang with the sound of Law's shackles hitting against them with the movement of his body as Doflamingo slammed his fist into that very unpretty face.

Law looked at him, chest rising. Face streaked in white, what did he expect? Doflamingo was pleased there was still some cum in his subordinate's mouth.

He ripped Law's trousers off and though the foolish boy tried to get away, he couldn't. Doflamingo lifted his body, his legs going across his thighs where he knelt. He joined them together, and heft his legs up, holding them like a doctor might a newborn baby's, and delivered a stinging blow to his rump, then another and another. Law's body bowed like the hull of a canoe.

Again the clown tried to get away, legs jerking, but he couldn't. Doflamingo tightened everything. Ah, beautiful rosy hue on his dark skin, crawling up his cheeks, both on his arse and his face.

"Bad boy. _Bad_ boy," he whispered down at him, lowering and positioning Law's legs around him. He jutted his fingers into the fucked up mouth, and gathered his own semen and some of Law's saliva. He ordered Law to lick at his fingers. The little cat did. And then he jammed them up his other cunthole, the idiot almost jumping through the roof. It shouldn't be too bad, at least in terms of access. They used him so often.

"My sweet slave, Law. You don't waste anything your master gives you." He pulled at Law's hair. "Capiche?"

Law blinked. Agreement, his face taut with pain.

He was so used to being used, he was in an almost constant state of being ready anyway, but Doflamingo prepared him in the roughest way possible with a minimum amount of care. He applied a bit of lube for himself and then he just took what was his. Law's hair flying everywhere, a different angle of his head hitting the bars now.

This bitch needed to be owned and so he owned him. Again. His hand pressed into that brand they'd burned into his skin. Law's spastic cries filled the room. Good. As he was about to come, he pulled out, and angled his cock at that open mouth and pumped everything into it again. He entered and his cock pulsated in Law’s mouth and filled it up. He was careful withdrawing not to spill anything.

"Swallow."

Law looked so very frightened. How could he do the impossible? It took all his will to somehow tip his head so none trickled down his face.

"Use your tongue." Doflamingo laughed to see it attempt to shovel his seed back down Law's throat.

"Let me help you."

Doflamingo dumped his underling, pulled his own clothes back on, and then drew the chained Law to him again and instructed him to cross his legs around his back once more. So muscular. His body was so beautiful. That Don Quixote brand right at home. Those offensive tatts. His arms must hurt, stretched out like that.

He brought his head to Law's, and careful of his strings, he explored his mouth and pushed back the semen he could find toward Law's throat and was gratified to feel Law both gagging and swallowing. He swiped Law's tongue with curiosity and Law responded as trained.

Doflamingo withdrew and laughed. "Dirty fucking slut." He approached the mouth again, a firm grip on Law's chin, and gave it the tongue fucking from Hell, and pulled at Law's own dick with his other hand, roughly stroking up and down. He moaned. The fucker moaned. Doflamingo smiled. Laughed into his gaping hole.

"More. Tell me you want more. More noises Law."

He was rewarded. Law was hard.

"Come."

He did, all over his master's hand. Doflamingo slammed Law's dick down, slapping his balls. Law jerked in discomfort. "Clean this the fuck up, dirty bitch" and he shoved his hand in Law's ready mouth.

Law's tongue slipping in and out of his mouth, dipping into all the crevices of his hand, despite the way his lips were angled. "Oh damn, so cute. Such a cute little doggie." Though he wasn’t sure of that expression. Dare he be defiant while pretending to be compliant?

Doflamingo pulled his hand away and managed to deliver yet another stinging slap to his elevated rump. "Bad boy, such a bad dirty little boy." Law felt his own saliva, he guessed, against the skin.

Law lifted a finger to give thanks and shook and shuddered with the assault and the motion.

"Oh you felt so good, you tight little bitch." He paddled him again and again and Law lifted his fingers to indicate the number of strokes in the way he would have to count if he had full use of speech. Clever Law. He didn't even have to be told.

Doflamingo wanted to go for round two, but instead he stood up, tidied himself, and left Law, sprawled, chained and naked. The whore was filthy. It wouldn't do. Vergo was yet to discipline him.

He came back with a bowl and a cloth. He undid one cuff. "Clean yourself", and Law did, with his one bleeding arm - the cuffs always digging into his skin - the shaking hand tentatively touching his lips, still suspended in a constant state of surprise.

"Especially your cunt hole."

What were little boys made of after all? But snips and snails and puppy dog tails?

Law glared at Doflamingo as he cleaned his arse, with the cloth, one-handed, like a barrel-organ monkey. Due to being chained by the other hand, he couldn't stand, had to squat. It was hard to take him seriously. Still, he wasn't often given the chance to wash. He should be grateful.

"And your mouth." Law looked over with a wary air. Doflamingo wasn't through with him yet. "Wait, I'll do it for you." Law tensed.

The Young Master grabbed the cloth and rolled it up, tying it with one of his strings. The cloth that had just cleaned Law's arse. He dipped it into the semen-soaked water so it was sopping, and then rammed it in and out of Law's mouth, water flying over his face and that free hand batting at Doflamingo in panic, trying to get him to stop. He left the cloth in the orifice, holding Law's free arm back.

He picked up the bowl, brought it close to Law's face and pushed the resisting head into it and pulled it out when his body had convulsed just enough. That spare hand flailing, the chained one hitting the bars. Doflamingo laughed, tipped the jizz-infused water all over him, over his hair.

Doflamingo threw the bowl away and let go of his hand. He sat there, heaving and shivering, his toes curled up. All still on display. At least he was clean. Kind of. Law's shaking hand pulled out the cloth. Spluttering and coughing, he knew he could be punished further for the action.

Instead Doflamingo chained Law up again, picked him up again, and pulled on his trousers, over his wet legs, his shaking, dripping body. He'd got Doflamingo's own clothes wet. The Shichibukai snarled with annoyance and backhanded him, the grunt of pain always satisfying.

Then he stood back.

"Do you know why we had to do this, Law?"

Law didn't answer. There was no right answer. He couldn't answer.

"You were disobedient, Law. Your duty as a slave is to be waiting for us in the morning to relieve our stress, but you were sleeping, this morning, like the lazy whore you are. So we had to take matters into our own hands. You were born to be used, Law. Remember.

“Vergo will visit later to mete out further punishment, lucky boy, and I _will_ supervise. Maybe you will learn, little one, maybe you will learn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Law _does_ get away from all of this. Scarred for life though. Understandably. This scene precedes [chapter ten](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13009587/chapters/30455247) in _Gimcracks_. Warnings apply to that chapter.
> 
> Doflamingo and Vergo eventually get their just deserts. If in need of comfort, any of my G-T rated stuff should help, with most of them having a small or larger connection to this time in Law’s life, in terms of past and memories.


	2. A vassal is but a vessel - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was his 18th birthday and Doffy said Dellinger could have anything he wanted. What he wanted most began with _L_ and ended with _W_.
> 
>  **Please note the warnings**. Dark. Pushes boundaries. No sweetness to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warnings** : rape and sexual assault throughout. Please hit the back button if it’s not for you.
> 
> A world where Doflamingo was not arrested by the marines, and Vergo survived Punk Hazard. Law was taken into captivity by the two at the end of Dressrosa.
> 
> Some comfort reading suggestions at the end, if needed.

* * *

**A vassal is but a vessel, my friend - 1**

* * *

Nobody fucked you with a gun for their own tactile pleasure. It was all about power. Gladius was the exception to the rule. Except it was an actual gun, but Gladius could explode himself and Law and the gun if he wished. Or make the gun swell and explode within Law, whether or not he pulled the trigger.

Law still had enough will to survive to be scared. Cora had told him he was often scared but did what he had to do. Younger Law laughed at him. Weak. He soon learnt differently.

Thankfully, Gladius kept the gun steady, apart from an occasional scraping and push and pull over Law's tongue and up against the back of his throat. He was happy to yank Law's hair back and to see his fear and to insist the boy — twenty-eight years old now — do the job as lovingly as he could. In a way, it was an extension of Gladius after all, considering his affinity with weapons and gunpowder.

This  _was_  good training for Law if he came back into the folds of the Family, was reinstated; apt punishment for the dog if he wasn't. Betrayal was not forgiven.

The safety was off, the gun loaded. He'd have to remember to withdraw before he got carried away and detonated it.

To be fair, it was difficult for Law to deep throat with his usual finesse while Dellinger rode his arse. The half-human, half-fish turned eighteen last month, and the Young Master had promised him anything he wanted. He'd thought long and hard and this was it. To fuck Law while the traitorous piece of shit was being fucked by a gun. The kid had potential.

Fortunately for Law, someone had popped Dellinger's cherry long before and he knew what to do. Not that he was free of the haste or selfishness of youth.

Doflamingo and Vergo watched whatever was on the video feed in the adjacent room — a game of Saturday afternoon football, gladiators battling it out, Sea King Olympics, Big Mom's kids training. They turned an occasional eye to the rumpus room. No-one was allowed to hurt Law too much, but they could come close. The threshold was high.

Diamante and Trebol played chess, and Jora wasn't really into this kind of discipline, though she sometimes watched the clips. But everyone else, from the gardener to the courier, stood around, hands down pants, hungry for their turn.

Sometimes the master was generous with his goods, and he had nothing against them coating Law. The dipshit liked it, and nothing was too much — too low — to repay treachery. Leprous, treacherous, lecherous. All collocated nicely with Law.

Needless to say, he was naked, and the neck ring — Dellinger had asked for it, as if the seastone chip was not enough — made a lovely clank against the gun when Dellinger pushed into him a little too enthusiastically, and when Gladius, perhaps distracted by the cheering of the crowd from the video feed in the TV room, or the rustle and grunt of cloth and skin around him, tipped the gun and tripled the possibility of an explosion.

Pica's man might have been more invested in jigging the gun around a bit and hitting Law's teeth and rasping the roof of his mouth if he hadn't been filming. They made a killing on these underground videos, and the best thing was all the sick fucks out there who wanted to hire Law after watching one.

Looking at the way his lips moved over that muzzle as if it were the sweetest of ice creams, he could see why. If the price was high enough, the Young Master rented him out. Law's cut of the takings being that he lived to breathe another day. Oh, and he guessed the filthy slut enjoyed it at some level.

Speaking of which, he was on his knees, Dellinger behind him, breathing into Law's pretty, muscled, back, the hybrid's hands gripping Law's front, his hips, wherever he could gain purchase. Slimy, grabby, sweaty, but strong. Law's own arms were wrapped around Gladius' thighs, and Gladius enjoyed the frantic grappling against the fabric, the intermittent pressure of the irons around Law's wrists against his skin, as Deliinger's actions caused Law's hands to slip from Gladius' loosened trousers. His chest rose and fell evenly, though not slowly, as he tried to suck the gun  _and_  brace himself, the heart swirls a massive fuck you. How'd that work out for you, Law? Gladius ordered him to face upward.

"Tired, pretty boy?" He framed Law's spent, angry face through the transponder's lens, a nice, new compact model. "A little more effort, now. Persevere, ne, Law? Suck as if the Young Master's precious juices are just a lick and a sip away."

Like that was such a turn on, Law thought, eyes strafed with hate, but Gladius and those other fuckers should know. Doflamingo took where he could and the Family lined up at his door, falling over themselves to be fucked over. Too bad the door was usually locked and the one inside was his rather unwilling self. The young master only wanted what was not given freely.

"Law," Doflamingo warned from the front part of the room, not bothering to turn around. "If you ruin Dellinger's birthday, I'll be very upset."

Gladius tapped the side of the metal and Law's heart surged. If only Dellinger would allow him some movement. As much as he could, he grunted appreciation as he tried to slobber all up and down the barrel of the pistol. At least they hadn't jammed it in the other end. The more drool, the easier the metal was to take. His fingers dug into Gladius' thighs as he imagined how he must look, how he'd look in the video.

 _Alive_. He'd look fucking alive.

"Pathetic," Vergo chuckled from the front room at the sounds. "Cunt loves it."

Gladius shook the gun so Law gagged and how dare he have that glimmer in his fucking eye? Defiance? It made violating that bratty cakehole all the more fun. All the more necessary.

Law heard them — despite the blood rushing his ears, beating behind his temples — the underlings, fapping away, wide grins on their faces. Some had families outside of the Family.

Dellinger had made a big display of preparing him to show everyone he knew what to do. To show who was owned. Shame Law had his mouth around the gun the whole time. He might have appreciated the fish breed's skill a little more if he hadn't known that Gladius could blow his head off his body at any time.

He knew Dellinger had fantasies of dragging those teeth over his cock and maybe that was coming, but at the moment, his light form banged Law's frame to let him know who was conquered. Both men — was Dellinger a man now? — fought for dominance over his fucking hair, Gladius having passed on filming duties to a lackey. Thank christ Cora had saved him. Normal was a skinload of fucked up in this freaking room.

Gladius pulled him forward onto the gun and Dellinger grabbed him so that his erection was more fully ensconced. Law pushed back into the birthday boy to waylay that fucking firearm going off.

"Doffy. He's riding me!" Dellinger's voice high, excited, breathy.

"Nasty whore." Vergo picked a pecan from a bowl on the table, cracked it open and bit down. He looked over his shoulder, boredly inquisitive. Could he muster the interest to partake? Show Dellinger how to really screw Law up?

Maybe he didn't need any training. Dellinger wanted to hurt Law, so he pushed into him hard and Law felt the gun hit something it shouldn't, his tonsils? Well, what was a gun meant to rightfully hit? Everything was muffled by the metal. Coughs, choking, bile. "Enjoy yourself, Law. Pleasure it," Gladius warned. "Go for fucking broke. Knock yourself out."

Dellinger leant down, his breath against Law's back. He loved being this close to the ink, seeing Law's pores and fine hairs, the irregularities mapped onto his skin. Nature had its way, and so had others. Law couldn't win, could he? As he'd seen Vergo and the Young Master do, he grabbed Law's penis and started rubbing. Behind the fucker, in him, Dellinger hit that spot he'd been directed to hit with his cock, and even with the gun in Law's mouth, and terror obviously filling his every fibre, his head jerked back as, yeah, Dellinger  _had_  fucking hit it, and the Heart  _captain_ 's cry was one of defeat. And. He'd definitely liked that, even though the commentary was on mute.

"Dirty birdie." Doflamingo's words in Dellinger's voice were something Law never wanted to hear. "Young Master said you were mine for a week."

What Dellinger lacked in technique, he made up for in zealous application. Law thought his dick might fall off. Dellinger wasn't the most talented at hand jobs, but he grabbed, squeezed and rubbed and, between that and the adrenaline ripping every door of every chamber of Law's body off its hinges, he grew hard under those novice fingers.

"Law." Doflamingo's voice penetrated all sounds and they were fucking noisy. Law slit his eyes in that direction but couldn't see a thing. "Do what Dellinger says. It's his birthday and you're the drudge. His present."

Fucker. Fucking Demon. The fucking taste of this metal and, ah fuck, he may as well get something out of it.

"Come, Law. Come for me," Dellinger sing-songed, and Law wished the release was just a piddly fucking thing that showed how little he wanted any part of this, but it was epic, coating his abdomen and pelvis then dripping to the floor.

"Ha, so good onii-chan, you came before me. That's weak, isn't it? And so much. You like it that much? Like being touched by me that much?" Dellinger's maniacal giggle. The prickles running up the back of Law's neck, still with that gun shoved into his gob, anger, shame, blankness. He moaned. Wished he could fucking breathe, the tinny taste of Gladius' weapon glazing the inside of his mouth as he ingested it with the fervour required.

Law, lips flitting around like fish in a bowl, stared up at Gladius and Gladius tipped his head back. This boy was feeble. He withdrew the gun, satisfyingly wet with saliva. Law's mouth must be dry, which was a shame, because he was hoping for something damp and comforting. Never mind, a hole was a hole. A vassal but a vessel. He loosened his grip and Law tried to lean over, but couldn't. Panting. Tried to rehydrate by swallowing, pressing his lips together. That metallic tang. He had to clutch Gladius' legs and the smooth cloth to remain upright. Intimate, close and nothing he wanted. Dellinger still a piston of slime jerking into him.

Safely tucking his gun away, Gladius checked with Dellinger, who was happy and flush with the efforts and sounds of his body against Law's. He gave an enthusiastic nod, pushing Law further against his co-officer's legs.

Gladius pulled Law's hair, so slippery and matted, toward his own fully engorged dick and pushed his head, his beautiful, serviceable mouth, onto it. Fuck, it had turned him on seeing that slut eat that gun. Just one squeeze of the trigger. One touch of his fruit. He'd shown restraint, but not now.

One of the lackeys continued filming. The Family edited out distinguishable features, except for Law's. There was a good customer base among the marines, all on the lowdown, of course. The Don Quixote officer laughed to himself. No surprise really. The marines were only different in that their corruption wore the face of justice.

Gladius should come before Dellinger, it was only polite, and really, he was incredibly close from seeing artillery so feared, so fondled and obeyed. After holding Law's ears and pushing his face well into his pubes, Law's fingers grabbing his arse and pressing into his cheeks, he released into the cunt's mouth and throat after only a few thrusts, his dick buckling without warning like one of Diamante's swords. He kept everything so neatly contained in Law, pumping out all there was. That cavity was surely moist now.

He smiled as Law swallowed and tried to clean what he could. He was so panicked. The Captain of the Heart Pirates, panicked. The mighty shichibukai, panicked. Pin-prick eyes. Oh, he could almost grow hard again feeling the shake throughout the underling's body. He put a tiny scare into his brethren by making his dick swell, just a touch. That extra flicker of fear was perfect. Dellinger looked over at Gladius. Law's heart had gone off the charts.

But, it _was_ dangerous and Dellinger was still hammering away — they didn't need an accidental explosion — so Gladius pulled out and his fist smashed across Law's face for the fun of it and the traitor, red and angry, growled — curses? He'd always had a foul mouth. See how far that'd get him. He hung his head like the puppet he was, no control whatsoever over the corporeal. Spitting, trying not to spit, the officers all convinced their fucking emissions were nectar to the gods. Law wasn’t allowed an opinion on the matter.

Dellinger came to a glorious, noisy, screeching finish befitting an eighteen-year old, scratching his nails all down Law's back. They'd all kept their clothes on, except for the slave. Dellinger's sport briefs at the tips of his thighs.

The half-fish man leant over Law. Man, he really wanted to scrape his teeth over his dick and have someone record the reaction, but delayed gratification had something going for it. He had him for the week.

"Thank me."

Law's jaw tightened.

"Law."

He tried to move his mouth. Gladius kicked him in the stomach. The men surrounding the show closed in and on a signal from Dellinger, who was moving again, fucking stamina of the young, they were to come over him as a one. "You got me all dirty, onii-chan, so I'm doing the same to you."

Law didn't even bother chasing that logic into the rabbit warren.

"I understand that gun might have affected your vocal cords, Law, so we'll help ease them into use. Open up," Gladius said, now on the sidelines.

On all fours now, and fucking Dellinger rocked into him again, and his arms and knees fucking ached, and he couldn't keep his head up, but he had too, and there was Gladius gesturing to those men who hadn't come yet to stand in front of him, and he didn't want Doflamingo's strings in his lips, so he opened when Gladius told him to, and kept his eyes wide when told to, and they aimed for his fucking mouth, and some of them made it, and they wanted him to chase it, catch it, like some performing seal, and Dellinger finished as quickly as he started, nipping his fucking ear.

"You're disgusting, Law."

Face dripping, Gladius commanding him to lick what he could, commanding him to smile – he glowered and earned himself another kick dropping him half body to the ground. He lost contact with the flunky preparing to shoot his load whichever way. Dellinger, now standing, clothed, ground a fucking stiletto heel into his rump. The flunky shuffled away, complaining of being short changed, and Law rested his head on his banded arms until he felt Dellinger tug on the neck brace.

"Crawl, Law." And what could he fucking do, but what they asked or be dragged? "Mighty pirate."

It was a small punishment for treason, really, Dellinger thought. Hung, drawn and quartered would be more fitting.

"Clean them." Law looked up, exhausted, and Dellinger sent a tiny buzz through the collar. Law instinctively reached for it, and was burnt. He dropped his hand and rested on the back of his heels in the middle of the room where Dellinger had led him. His arms by his side. The collar was covered in spunk. As was he. White monster.

"You can spit at him, but treat him well. He's my favourite fuck toy," Doflamingo chimed in, peeling his eyes from the television to take in Law patiently awaiting the first of the men jostling around the room. He turned back and ran a hand through Vergo's hair for a second. The man leaning into it.

This was manageable, Law thought, mitigated relief niggling that part of him he would hate and hate and  _hate_  and replay later. So docile, so malleable, so compliant. There was more control now. How could he make this easier for himself?

"With brio, Law. Vim _and_ vigour. I want them happy. Hip-hoppy happy. Everyone _must_ enjoy my birthday. Except you. But you do, in your own way, don't you?" Dellinger's sharp teeth were clear in his smile. He was tempted to run a hand through that black hair but it was revolting. He swung an arm out to the room. "If they grow hard again, they can mouth-fuck Law, right, Young Master?"

"It's your birthday, Dellinger."

Dellinger's grin widened.

There were a few subordinates who didn't grow hard again, and Law worked to be efficient, and not enticing, but every time he thought he hit the right balance of  _get-this-the-fuck-over-and-done-with_ , Dellinger, like a tinkling wind-chime, proclaimed Law was just going through the motions, and Gladius used his booted foot to kick Law's arse, and Law transformed into the harlot of their fucking dreams.  _Their_  fucking dreams.

"No wonder the boss likes him."

That mouth was sinful.

"Gotta get him to give the wife a few lessons."

" _Fuucckkk_." A worker threw his head back and gripped the rookie's hair, scum be damned, and he slammed into Law and pushed Law onto him.

Even covered with semen and mucus he was fucking gorgeous, a trainwreck of gorgeous, and the upstart had to fall. Further. They all hoped to guard Trafalgar's room. It held certain benefits. Not for the back-stabber of course. Get real, but the boss was all about gratitude when gratitude was due.

As Law's meticulous and attentive tongue cleaned each man down, he was dismissed. A few did spit in the rookie's hair, one into his mouth, and one wiped a gob across his eye. As if he did this for fun. But they departed and this finally left Law, Dellinger, Gladius, Vergo, Doflamingo and the two elite executives, Jora having been called away some time before. Law tried to slow his breath, still on the back of his heels, his arches aching, jaw aching, back aching, his hands on his thighs. He never knew how the nights would end.

"Clean him up, Dellinger, be gentle, then bring him back. No clothes."

Dellinger's face dropped.

"You can be gentle with a hose," Vergo said, turning again, taking in that sorry mess. "Just make sure the temperature is warm, don't put it on the highest pressure, don't force it into any hole. It can be fun, Dellinger. And next time he misbehaves, you can help me." Vergo had no compunction about forcing anything into any hole. Smiled at Law deliberately looking at nothing but the floor below him. Or had they drummed that subservience into him?

Law focused on the nails Jora had recently painted some vomit-inducing shade of fuschia. It clashed with but matched the red behind his eyes.

If he ever got his hands on any of these fucking wastes of space, they weren't putting themselves back together — ever.

* * *

**oOOo**

* * *

Dellinger had dressed him after drowning him like a cat.  _We fishman Love water_! He couldn't resist. Flannel pyjamas, easily removed. He shaped Law's eyebrows, shaved them into sharp delinquent arches, and slicked back his hair, all the while sitting on his lap in a chair, his legs curled around the slave. His property. For a week. Would the young master let him fuck him before he delivered him? Probably not.

Resentment rolled off Law. Dellinger patted his smooth cheeks.

"Young Master will like you like this, Law."

Law's chest constricted. He never got used to it. Vergo was bad enough, but he'd somehow gnaw out his own oesophagus if servicing Dellinger was an expected part of his weekly _duties_.

"Why do you always fight, onii-chan. We love you."

"For fucking what?" Law spat, trying to loosen the fishman's hold. He could throw the twinkle-toed shit to the floor, but where would it get him?

"For fucking, of course," Dellinger whispered and bit at Law's ear, drawing blood with those teeth. Law jerked his head away.

It didn't bother Dellinger. Everything was an adventure. He stood and pulled at the collar. Law rose, taller than his so-called younger brother. Dellinger stepped back with his heels onto Law's bare foot and the Heart cursed under his breath.

"Fucker, you've had me. Take me to the toe-cutter already."

"It's not as if you don't deserve it, Law. It's not as if you didn't sell us out. Hurt us." Dellinger tugged at the collar, and Law's head bent down. "C'mon. I was never owned, y'know. If you hadn't run away with Corazon, you wouldn't be either."

**oOOo**

Doflamingo's smile was wide at the showered, or hosed, subordinate in front of him in fresh pyjamas. Angry still. Always surprised him. Those eyebrows were interesting.

"No clothes is no clothes."

Dellinger pouted. "But they suit him."

Doflamingo paused. Assessed Law. The striped material was threadbare and stopped shy of covering his ankles but was a little too long over his hands. Something intoxicating in the worn, misfitting material. Maybe they should get some bands for his feet too. "Hmm. You're right. They do suit him, and easily removed."

Doflamingo stood and turned Law around, admiring him from all angles. Slid a hand down his long spine. "Run along now, Dellinger."

"But . . ."

It was time for the adults to play.

"I'll return him later, but learn moderation. This is a broken toy, but you don't want him so broken that you can't use him again."

Dellinger nodded. He had to clean his room anyway. Maybe redecorate Law's. Pin up some posters. It was so gloomy in there. Meet up with Jora and tell her all his birthday exploits, the ones she hadn't witnessed.

"Shall I wait in Law's room?"

"Not tonight, Dellinger."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thank you for reading.** I know why I wrote it, but not if it was wise to post, so I needed my usual self-reflection, took chapter two down, and am reposting, and splitting _Vassal_ into two chapters to give the reader a bit of a breather. There isn't a hell of a lot of subtlety in here. 
> 
> Law does get away, eventually, as described in _[Repossession](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12766182/chapters/29125485)_ and _[Gimcracks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009587/chapters/29750184)_. Also dark long fics, but they have their moments of comfort and humour. All of his tormentors get their just deserts.
> 
> If you want stories where Law is getting the respectful love he deserves, I have some one or two shots out there. _[Weather Monks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14706405)_ kind of follows on from this, and for some humour (and a smidgen of angst), _[Bepo's Wedding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124512)_ , _[100 Red Noses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124737)_ and _[Macrobiotics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14766224/chapters/34147907)_ can probably be read without reading the long fics, and are light.


	3. A vassal is but a vessel - 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the cradle to the cradle-robber.
> 
> *Not a brand new chapter. _Vassal is but a vessel_ has been split into two chapters, but same content.
> 
>  **Please note the warnings**. Dark one-shot. Pushes boundaries. No sweetness to be found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warnings** : rape and sexual assault throughout. Please hit the back button if it’s not for you.
> 
> A world where Doflamingo was not arrested by the marines, and Vergo survived Punk Hazard. Law was taken into captivity by the Don Quixote two at the end of Dressrosa.

* * *

**A vassal is but a vessel - 2**

* * *

"Baby."

Law looked at Doflamingo, broken indeed. The heavenly demon ran a gentle finger along his cheek. "Let's take this collar off will we?"

Hell, yeah.

"Will we?" The snarl, behind the smile.

"Please, Master." His gallbladder wasn't through expelling bile. Imagine that.

"And if I do?"

Law shrugged. Doflamingo's huge hand shot out and wrapped around his throat, collar and all. Law forced his hands to still by his sides.

"You're lucky I didn't let Gladius detonate you today. That I restricted the insertion of foreign objects to your shitty fucking mouth instead of that other very accommodating cavity."

Law tensed. Further. "Thank you, Master."

"So if I take off the collar?"

"Whatever you want."

"And what might that be?"

He loved that Law needed to blink away tears, as rare as they were. It was delicious bringing him to the edge. He tightened his fingers.

"Your ingenuity has no peer." And it was true. That's why Doflamingo was a king and Law was lower than a concubine's consort's bit on the side.

"Is that so? I thought I'd trained you to be the most innovative of my pets. The perversion comes naturally, of course."

"Yes, Master."

"But also the most obedient, right?"

"Yes, Master."

"But you're not very good at that, are you Law?" Doflamingo uncurled his fingers, reached for the key and released the collar. Law couldn't help the utterance of relief. Couldn't help but raise a hand to his neck and massage his fingers into the back of it, the cuff on his wrist hitting his jawline.

"Sorry, Master."

Doflamingo slammed that pile-driver fist into his gut, and then pulled Law up by his hair as he doubled over. No fucking escape. No day was better than the last.

"You want me to chain you, Law? To use parasito?" His nerdy doctor in his prim nightwear. He'd laughed when he'd tried to catch cum like a performing seal earlier, remembered his stint as a laughing clown.

"No, Master. I'm sorry," Law wheezed.

"Well, here's your chance. What do you want to do?"

Law slowed his heart rate, gained his breath. "Sleep?" Even to talk hurt his jaw. Another fist drove into his belly. He spat out a cough.

"Wrong answer, slave."

"Huh," Law held his stomach, who knew?

"Pleasure you, Master." He looked up at Doflamingo under his fringe. Doflamingo's gaze lingered on those fingers — strange to think they could heal a man — before skipping to the gold-flecked eyes.

"Yes, Law, and in what way?"

Law wouldn't answer now, Doflamingo knew it. But he should act. With head down, and high colour — it was so sweet that he was still shy — he put one of those capable hands out and loosened the ties of Doflamingo's capris, his other hand rubbing at his crotch. What shade  _had_  Jora done his nails? Oh well, so long as he hated it, didn't really matter.

"Ah, you want to be fucked?"

"Yes, Master."

The surgeon's hands were none too steady. Excitement? Doflamingo lifted Law's wrists away. Law was reminded of being suspended in the air as Doflamingo's devil fruit sawed through his arm.

"Well not all of us are constantly in heat. Some cuddling first, and then maybe you'll get your reward."

"Sir."

As if the night would stop at cuddling.

"Sorry for being a harlot." Law dipped his head. Keep it together. Keep breathing.

"Ah, birdie. You can't help it. But, now, on the bed. We'll punish you later for being forward." Doflamingo inclined his head toward that cavern of a mattress.

Law did as he was told, lying on his side, swallowed immediately by the giant bed, the fresh sheets, not daring to initiate anything.

Doflamingo slipped off his coat and lay next to Law. He turned him to face him, and pulled the younger man close.

"Legs."

Law looped a leg over Doflamingo's hip. Seemed the demon and Vergo had the same vocabulary.

"Face, here."

Doflamingo's enormous face bore down on Law's. The Heart captain felt his exhalation as he brought his own lips to Law's.

"Open."

He did.

"Do your job."

He did.

Law's hands explored the tight abs and nipples of Doflamingo while his mouth let in both the heavenly demon and sought reciprocality with his tongue. When the demon wanted to claim him, he let him. Law's tongue entwined his master's and brushed the enamel of Doflamingo's teeth. Then he widened his own lips into a flat accessible hole, an obliging vessel. Doflamingo covered him entirely and, gripping Law's cock, fucked every crevice of his mouth. Law breathed through his nose. Humming to breathe.

Songs of contentment. Doflamingo smiled to himself. He rolled them both over so he flattened the boy, was on top of him, never releasing his mouth — so moist, wicked, succulent. His body so spanking clean after his hose-down, and Doffy grew harder imagining that, Law naked, on all fours, filthy, shivering, at Dellinger's bidding. Law was  _not_  allowed to stand when being hosed down. Fire hose drills being an exception.

One clean, manicured, unmarked hand pulled down the brat's pyjamas so they sat just below the curve of his butt. Doflamingo loosened the ties of his own trousers. Surely the boy was ready. He'd been fucked all afternoon, but still — tongue going in and out and lips mashing, and Law returning and imagining past lovers to make it bearable, his arms draped around his rapist's neck, his breath skating Doflamingo's skin — the heavenly demon shoved a lubed-up finger, fingers into the needy, responsive Law. Hardly a reaction. A bite of encouragement on his lips perhaps, and he ground back onto his hand? Doffy grinned. Law was so ready for it.

Those cuffs were annoying against his neck when he wanted softness, but Law looked so good in them. Plus, he  _was_  unpredictable. He'd had to be restrained more times than he could count — both for preventative and punitive measures.

Doflamingo freed his own cock and lined it up with Law's _oh so_ willing hole. The tramp wrapped his legs around Doflamingo's back for ease of access and angle, the pyjamas a bit of cloth covering nothing. But Law was not allowed to remove them without approval, and Doflamingo enjoyed how ridiculous the jackass looked in them. A length of material dangled beyond Law's feet, and another bunched on his thighs, stopped his skin from completely connecting with Doflamingo's own. Dignity was a scarce commodity.

Law obviously didn't care and couldn't get enough of being taken. Some bitches were like that. Never mind their protests. They asked for it, they all asked for it. Never let them tell you otherwise. If they didn't ask for it, they wouldn't be under him. Plain and simple.

Doffy saw Law — spineless, needy specimen — for what he was. It worked in his favour. He pulled his mouth away for a second, saliva pooling, and the rush of blood, those luscious lips, Law's eyes pleading with him, his heels pushing into his back. So Doffy covered his mouth again, Law's tongue instantly against his own, and plunged into Law's hole. And the  _ah_  his subordinate gave was laced with shock and fucking ecstasy, Doflamingo knew, especially in the way he tilted his neck back. He knew every curve of this elegant slutty whore. Even with his buttoned up nightwear. Doflamingo had cast and cut those curves after all, fine-tuned his inherently wanton nature.

"So nice to have you back home again, little one."

Law licked and nipped and pushed his own erection into his master's taut body. Ah, man, he needed to get off.

"A little whipping later? A spanking?"

 _Please_ , Law whispered, moving as Doflamingo rocked into him, his shaky long fingers trying to hold onto something, anything, gentle against the massive man's chest.

"Why are we punishing you, Law?"

"Dirty slut." Dry mouth, automatic response, he spoke the truth.

"That you are and you make me sick. Legs wrapped around me, begging for it. Beg, Law."

His huge hand twisted Law's nipples under the material of his shirt. He pushed his hand upwards and the three top buttons popped off. His cock shook Law's body, the sheets a concertina under him.

" _Please_."

"You want my cock in your mouth?"

"All of it." Law had his hands by his side now, plucking at the bed linen, the material slipping from his hands as his body moved. His eyes tapering.

"When?"

"Never stop wanting it."

And somehow Doflamingo thought it was true.

"You need to be fucked so bad for being so bad." He said, his voice now betraying his own weakness.  _Fuufuu_. When the devil was in front of you, how could you resist? Law  _made_  him do it. He leant into his flattened elbows as he pressed closer.

The younger man's thighs quivered.

"Say it with me —I bring it on myself."

" _Bring it on myself_."

Doflamingo pushed a lock of Law's hair behind his ear. Loved that Law's little tongue almost shot out to caress his palm, as he'd been so often instructed. He'd been so wild when they'd first grabbed him. Look at him now. "Say, I'm cock hungry and— "

"—a whore," Law finished.

"Damn right."

He fucked him harder.

"In time now, Law." It gave Doflamingo great amusement, "Syncopate." The cocksucker was so good, he didn't doubt that this moment was a highlight of Law's day, hell, year, and what a day it had been. A lowlife being laid low was surely the bright spot for any slave.

" _Bring it on myself, bringit, bringit ton myself, bringiton-mself, bringitto_." Law slurred like a drunken caterpillar. Still, it was a litany he recited, expression glazing as Doflamingo's huge cock smashed in and out, never letting up. Law's toes curled and his eyes leaked and Doflamingo wondered if he'd finally broken him. Further.

 _Bring it fucking on_.

Law merged with the rhythm. If he got pleasure out of it, at least he got something, right?

"Sick fuck. Remember how you sought me out last week? You crawled into my bed and pushed up against my palm. Your soft little lips and breaths against my own. So needy."

Movement.

"Master."

As Law recalled, he'd been instructed to do so, but sometimes he needed some fucking warmth. Vergo had just beaten him into an abyss. Doflamingo's barbed care was the only affection he received, Jora's dress ups and Trebol's fetishes aside. He scratched the days of his captivity into the underside of the desk they let him have, and ran his fingers against the grooves when they gave him a few seconds to himself, but he still lost track of time.

"Rub into me now, Law. Buck like the fucking useless fawn you are. The most pitiable screw in the world. Wait."

Doffy reached to the bedside table and turned on the filming function of the transponder snail. "Go for it."

Law closed his eyes at the den-den mushi until Doflamingo ordered him to open them. He didn't mind his professional status being mired because it wasn't a role he'd chosen for himself, but the laugh he bit down was copper and acerbic. They fucked him out of pity? They fucked him even though they got nothing from it? He wished they'd shower their benevolence on a more deserving charity case. One that maybe volunteered for the role out of whatever darkness twisted their masochistic hearts.

Still he thrust upwards as Doflamingo fucked him and gripped his hips and practically moved the bed across the bedroom floor. That cock pounded into and up him and he almost didn't need to push his body against the muscles hemming him in, but every contact was a volt of fucking turn-everything-inside-out, and he knew he was going to hate himself even more in the morning, cos he was this close to begging and Doflamingo knew it.  _Huh_. His breath spasmed like the blades of the fan splayed on the ceiling.

"Feels good, right? Your dick against my skin."

"So good." Choking. Eyes hooded, golden and lazy — spiced with fear, loathing. "Master."

"Look at you, ravaged, begging for more." Law widened and tightened his legs. Pressed his heels down. The cloth soft between them, wet between them, chafing at parts of his skin. Ravaged. Was that what they were calling rape nowadays?

" _Fuffuufufu_ , actions speak louder than words, Law. Nobody will ever want you any other way, and they all know. They all know, Law." Doflamingo angled Law to the side dropping one of his legs from his back, and pulling off one pyjama leg. He drilled him. Law's body was twisted at an unnatural angle. He looked so pretty and helpless shunting across the bed. The brand, the tattoos seen under the open folds of the top all colour and motion.

"Good, slut?"

Law reached for his own dick, fingers curling around it.  _They all knew_. What the fuck did it matter what he did, then? But it did matter of course. One of the many rules was no DEATH-to-all-Law-generated anything for Law. Only for others. He  _was_  a slave, made for others.

Doflamingo slapped his hand away and tied it behind him to the bedhead with a quick use of his powers. That got Law off too. He really was fucked. He vaguely remembered a time when he was human. When he thought the world might judge Doflamingo more harshly than himself. Any residual — that tame, insipid word, incidental — orgasm was  _not_  worth what they put him through.

Doffy rubbed and pinched at Law's arse and swung his hand along Law's dick with a few rough calloused strokes, thumbing off on the tip, and Law gasped and jerked up and fucking came without permission all over the sheet. Doflamingo could go on forever. "I cannot wait to correct you here Law, tonight." All teeth, he cupped Law's balls, and squeezed his cheeks.

"Sorry," Law hissed.

Too fucking late.

Doflamingo withdrew, mighty, red, angry, dripping, and — untying Law's hand — picked him up, shook him about, and threw him down like a chew toy to the foot of the bed, their positions changed. How did that nightwear even remain on? He pushed Law's face into his own cum. He had him bent over, arse in the air, and he plunged into that red raw puckered hole, ignoring any cries, and tugged down the cloth of the remaining pyjama leg. Doflamingo was ahead of the game when Law made any noise he hadn't commanded him to.

"Lick it up, Law,"

No point in arguing. Law didn't even know the meaning of the fucking word any more. His delicate tongue exited and lapped away. So fucking cute, bobbing away as Doflamingo proselytised his arse, his face scraping across the sheet.

But this stroll down a countryside lane was too polite for Law, and that wouldn't do, so Doflamingo upped the linguistic ante, fucking him in the only language he knew — fire and brimstone, ground glass. Puffs of air escaped as Law's face washed up in the release under Doffy's fucking hydraulic assault.

How did he get here?  _He must love it_. No, he didn't. He didn't love it. His fingers curled. He could not think beyond what was happening. No Bepo, no calm of the infirmary, no deep ocean. Just gut-coiling shame.

Doflamingo hit that spot and fuck, there he was, hard again, fulfilling the role he was made for. Sucking a sheet full of his own semen back into his mouth. Doffy knew him for what he was. He got off on this? Law hadn't stared at himself in a mirror for a very long time. He couldn't stop the noises intermingling with Doffy's motions now. Fuck toy, glove. Doflamingo strapped him on, the perfect fit whenever he wanted him.

"Surgeon of Death." Doflamingo pushed Law's head into the space. "More like washer woman. Dog. Lick. Be frantic. Make it loud. Yowl. Howl like you're in heat. And you're always in fucking heat."

He slurped at the sheet until his tongue was dry. "So good, Doffy." He wondered if the prick understood his muffled obsequiousness. Metal, cotton. What was the next inanimate object they were going to entertain him with? His arms shaking, he tried to work them under his head, to angle them for support instead of letting them dangle uselessly. His body was nothing but tremors and traction.

Somewhere a long way from here, in a brief pocket of freedom, he'd lain in a bed in a corner of a room, staring at the windows. The curtains were worn and the wind was up, and the light streamed through them as they billowed and skirted the floor. Useless. Was that how his body moved now? His hair would lift if it wasn't matted with Dellinger's gel and his own sweat, now his own cum.

"Howl."

Law did. A curtain had an easier life. Doflamingo laughed at the absurd sound, dulled as it was by the sheet. The transponder would remember. They'd play it back to him. Vergo and he. And if they let him, Law would curl into himself and look down at his knees, trying to block his ears. When would he learn? There was no Law left.

Doffy came with a mighty fucking show and, still in Law, pummelled out his release into Law's rump. "Gobble it up — it's Alabasta one thousand thread count. Don't stop."

Law guessed the sheet was preferable to the freak's cock.

Doffy pulled away. Laughed at Law still hoovering the material as if it were his mother's teat. Ah, maybe even the admirals would pay for that footage.

"This is lovely, isn't it, Law?" He lifted up the mess of a man, shaking the sheet from his mouth, and held him. He helped Law work his trembling legs back into the loose pyjamas legs, and rebuttoned the few remaining fasteners of the shirt, patting Law's chest.

Law's eyelashes fluttered. No, he wouldn't lose him to catatonia. Not when he knew what to do.

"You're lucky someone wants to treat you so gently after witnessing you as the human cum-dumpster for the Family, hmmm?" He knew the whore swallowed jizz like others breathed air. Not so much difference in Law covered in spots from Flevance or from his own men's emissions.

"Thank you, Doffy." He really wasn't worthy. If he was worthy, he wouldn't be in this position. His fingers feathered on his master's chest. He was  _lucky_  to be in this position. He didn't feel lucky.

Doflamingo gripped his hair, and Law's legs kicked out. He pushed Law away from him to get the right distance, then drew him in and pushed the fucker's head between his legs, Law's shoulders hunched. Kneeling, Doflamingo wiped his dick all over his slave's hair, cupping and clipping Law's neck down like training a puppy. Doflamingo made sure he cleaned himself thoroughly. Law had so many uses. Maybe he should patent him. A scrubber in all senses of the word. He was foul again, but Dellinger wanted to have fun with the hose tomorrow. Let him.

"Sleep." Doflamingo lay down and turned Law around so that he was engulfed in his arms, his back to him. He readjusted his own clothes, and the fool's pyjamas before shoving a hand down the same, and wrapped a hand around Law's dick again. That tiny cry of, exasperation, was it? Had he given Law permission to be exasperated? Well, he'd let it go this time. He kissed the back of his neck.

"It's been a tough day, but you did so well. The men are happy, because you can't help but offer your mouth and hole to anyone who asks. We'll have some visit you tomorrow night for positive reinforcement." His fingers were stroking the silky skin of his cock, his other arm curled under Law's head, his hand petting his cheek.

"You're bred for it, trained for it, no-one can really blame you, but I  _don't_  like you sleeping around, Law."

There was a time that the idiot thought he had some choice in his bed partners. When he thought it was an option to sleep alone. But he still _shouldn't_ be the ship's slut, even if he  _was_  the ship's slut.

Doflamingo felt wetness. Law. Those silent tears. He loved it. Really, couldn't he find a way to keep his arsehole stoppered, and not jammed full with the dicks of Doffy's crew? Doffy had saved his neck from the Family's wish for it to rest on the executioner's block, and this was all the thanks he got?

He leant closer to Law, and rubbed himself up against the younger man's cleft again and maybe it wasn't a bubble of exasperation but of defeat? Well, he'd been defeated from the day Doflamingo reclaimed this rotten fruit, and spoiled it all over again. Law was beyond fetid.

"Here are the rules. You fuck into my hand, come in those charming pyjamas Dellinger dressed you in — Lord knows what he'll say tomorrow, hey Law?" He laughed into his underling's shoulder. "He's so particular about clothes. And then, covered in semen, as you can't help but be every fucking day of your life, you can sleep."

"Sir." Law started rocking, and Doflamingo grinned at the friction. So quick to obey.

"Still got the stamina, eh? That's how we knew you were the perfect slave."

"Sir."

"Feels good, doesn't it, Law?" He pressed a few fingers.

"Master."

"And, then of course, come morning, I'll fucking beat you and fuck you for messing up my bed and hand and for being so filthy as to rest in your own cum. Sound fair, sound like a plan?"

"Thank you, Doffy," Law said, "You're too good to me," his voice already thick with arousal and, it had to be said, the bitter pleasure he'd get from staining Doflamingo's skin once he spilled into his grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Law does get away, eventually, as described in _[Repossession](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12766182/chapters/29125485)_ and _[Gimcracks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009587/chapters/29750184)_. Also dark long fics, but they have their moments of comfort and humour. All of his tormentors get their just deserts.
> 
> If you want stories where Law is getting the respectful love he deserves, I have some one or two shots out there. _[Weather Monks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14706405)_ kind of follows on from this, and for some humour (and a smidgen of angst), _[Bepo's Wedding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124512)_ , _[100 Red Noses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124737)_ and _[Macrobiotics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14766224/chapters/34147907)_ can probably be read without reading the long fics, and are light.


End file.
